Chosen

Chosen

Status: In Progress

Genre: Gay and Lesbian

Houses:

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Gay and Lesbian

Houses:

Tags

Summary

Edan has seen little of life. Raised in a secluded temple by holy men, he's the Chosen One, destined to be sacrificed. He's been taught all his life how dark and evil the world is beyond the protective walls of the temple. It's Edan's destiny to save the world. That is, until a terrifying warrior crashes forcefully into Edan's sheltered world, throwing everything he believes into question and destroying every last shred of Edan's purity. His life is about to change... dramatically. [m/m slash]

Tags

Summary

Edan has seen little of life. Raised in a secluded temple by holy men, he's the Chosen One, destined to be sacrificed. He's been taught all his life how dark and evil the world is beyond the protective walls of the temple. It's Edan's destiny to save the world. That is, until a terrifying warrior crashes forcefully into Edan's sheltered world, throwing everything he believes into question and destroying every last shred of Edan's purity. His life is about to change... dramatically. [m/m slash]

Chapter2 (v.1) - Chapter 2

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 17, 2017

Reads: 272

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 17, 2017

A A A

A A A

content warning: violence, murder, doing bad things to monks, sadism mention

The man looked up at the tall iron gate before him. It connected to a simple but sturdy wall that surrounded the grounds and buildings within. He could see the main building of the temple from where he sat atop his horse. The beast was a beauty, shining black with a white blaze. The animal had been carefully curried, bringing out the luster in his coat.

"Open up, old man," the newcomer called lazily to the monk peering at him from behind the safety of the iron bars. "I wish for a blessing on my new horse and I have plenty of gold to pay for it." He sighed. "And I'm quite tired of wandering around to get it," he muttered.

The monk stared at him suspiciously. The rich man rolled his emerald eyes.

"If your little sect won't do it, I'm sure I'll find a church in the next town that will take my donation," he snapped. "Maybe one that does a bit more renovation every once in awhile." He looked down his nose at the drab walls and rutted dirt path.

The old monk looked at the man's luxurious velvet cape. It covered the rich man so well only his glossy leather boots and intricately tooled gloves were exposed to the damp morning wind. The monk blinked at the large man and his guards. The guards looked bored, at best, on their noticeably less dashing horses. They seemed quite tired of following around their well-to-do lord who seemed to have more money than sense.

The monk nodded to the two younger apprentices that helped him guard the entrance. They turned the heavy wheel that allowed the mechanism to open the gates. The rich man sighed dramatically as he entered the temple grounds.

"It's good of you, I suppose, to take me in and offer blessings," the man drawled as he trotted his horse past the doors.

One of the man's guards hopped off his horse partway through the gate. He pulled up his horse's foot, looking for a rock in the shoe.

"Oh yes," the monk said genially, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his robe. "We offer succor and support to all those true in the spirit." He glanced back and noticed the guard blocking the gate. "Could you bring your horse in further to check him? We can't close the gate with him standing there."

The rich man was off his horse in a moment, leaving his opulent cape behind. His grin was wicked as he yanked the monk backward, drawing a dirk across the old man's throat. "I know."

He dropped the monk without a care to where the body fell to bleed out in the dirt. The man put his fingers to his lips and blew a screeching whistle. When he'd dropped from his horse, his men had moved quickly to dispatch the two young apprentices manning the gate. They'd been no match for seasoned warriors out for blood.

The lord had expected some resistance, but there were no real guards and the monks had no weapons except the knives in the kitchens. Most had simply fallen to their knees in prayer when they saw the warriors coming for them.

It was a slaughter.

The lord wiped his blade on the tunic of the monk staring glassily, sightlessly, at the ceiling beams. The towering man glanced to his left and saw a door that appeared to lead deeper into the temple.

"Duncan!" he called his captain.

The captain looked up from pulling his short sword from the guts of a praying monk. The lord sighed. Duncan enjoyed gutting those he thought deserving of a long, painful, and slow death. His lord avoided the method if only to avoid the disgusting smell of offal and excrement mixed with blood.

The lord pointed to himself, then the door. The captain nodded, understanding the implied meaning. Duncan would be around when he'd finished his other business. As the lord turned away, he heard the deafening scream of another monk who'd earned Duncan's blade in his belly.

The door barring the lord was locked, but it was little deterrent. A single swift kick popped it open. It was time to explore and find the treasure he'd heard so much about.

So far, the warriors hadn't found much beyond a few coins and boring statues. There was some food and fabric that would be looted. The temple was to have been flush with gold and jewels, he just had to find their shiny little stash. He could search faster alone and no one he might run into would pose a risk.

The hall he entered was a bit more opulent than the large room he'd left. The floor was fitted stone instead of dirt and rushes. He moved quickly, scanning for trouble or loot. It was several more turns in the halls until he met anyone. The monk he came across died as easily as the others and the lord moved on. Whenever there was more than one path, the lord chose the nicer door. He left a notch on each door jam to let his men know which way he'd come.

The halls and rooms became progressively more lavish as he moved on. Rough stone floors transitioned to wood, then tile, and finally a shining white granite. There were no quarries nearby with stone of that kind. The expense to have had it shipped and laid must have been exorbitant. The lord sneered at the waste.

The monks had clearly been very taken with gold inlay and filigree. It was everywhere, gaudy and nauseating. Every frame of the increasingly fancy paintings was practically flocked with gold. Cherubic young men in prayer and contemplation while surrounded by angels seemed to have been the theme for the statues and paintings. It was a bit creepy and vaguely pedophilic.

Disgusting. He hated all of it. When the warriors stripped the temple of what could be sold, the lord planned to burn the place to the ground.

He eventually reached a long hall decorated almost entirely in white. The decorator had, thankfully, let go of the urge to gold plate everything. It became eerily devoid of color. The statues of young boys and angels were pale marble. Vases overflowed with sweet white blooms, the tables they sat upon were white and glossy. The lord was entirely out of place in his bloody steel and leather armor. Out of spite, he knocked over an ugly vase and continued, dragging a hand across a pristine wall to leave dirty smears. He grinned and moved on.

At the end of the hall was a comically ornate door. The thick wood was plated with gold and set with valuable gems. The lord made a mental note to have a few of his men pry them off before they set the place ablaze. The lord tried the latch, but it wouldn't budge. He gave it a solid kick, which had opened the previously locked doors, but it only shook in its frame. He was pondering the problem when an angry shout drew his attention.

An old monk flung himself at the lord, bellowing. It was hard to understand him in his fury, but it sounded like something about purity and sacrifice. The lord paid the words no mind. His sword flashed and the old man fell, blood bubbling from his lips. The monk's hand went to his pocket and gripped something. His gaze blanked and the breath rattled wetly from his lungs a final time. The lord rolled his eyes. The monks were all idiots, as far as he was concerned. He leaned over to see what the old fool had been grabbing for. He pulled out a ridiculously large and embellished key. The lord chuckled as he pushed it into the large lock of the sparkling door.

The door opened on silent oiled hinges and the lord stepped inside. There was a little fountain bubbling merrily to one side. Mats and cushions were set in different areas. One was in front of the fountain, though no one rested there. Another empty cushion sat by a large square area with sand and stones. There were intricate designs in the sand, complemented by small rocks. The other nooks were similar, little mediation spots.

The lord sighed in annoyance. Save me from useless bullshit, he thought to himself.

But thankfully he had found what he had been searching for: this was the room that held the treasure. It was filled with valuable items that adorned the walls and sat upon pedestals. There was even a diamond encrusted chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. All of the jewels and gold would bring in a pretty penny to his land; the raid had most certainly been worth the days of travel.

The lord was inspecting a jeweled medallion when something pulled at his attention. A thin curtain had hindered the view somewhat, but the lord could see a figure kneeling before an alcove.

The curtain blocked little from the lord's view, now that he was paying closer attention. The first thing he noticed was rich golden curls that shone like sunshine on satin. His eyes dragged down a slim young body covered in a long shirt to a pert ass resting on smooth bare heels. The lord grinned widely, fire sparking in his emerald eyes. It appeared the monks were keeping a pretty little piece to play with when piety got boring. If her face matched her body, the lord could understand why. He reached down to adjust his awakening cock. Perhaps it was time for the lord to get to know a sexy little nun.

His smile turned sinister. The woman wasn't one of his people, she was a part of this holy group of bastards. When the day was done, no one would be left to give a damn about her. The lord could play some of his favorite games with the bitch. If she proved interesting, perhaps he would even keep her. Of course the annoying habit of praying would have to stop, but he was sure a few well delivered punishments would end that. The thought of having a little pet to use and abuse at his leisure was quite appealing to the lord. Some of the man's tendencies were getting harder to control. He needed relief, but it wasn't something he was willing to unleash on his people. A conquered bitch, however, would be something different.

None would object to their lord bringing home a conquest. No one would bat an eye at his treatment of her, no matter what happened. They would assume she'd incurred their lord's wrath and would just shake their heads at her foolishness. The man's half-hard cock certainly approved of the idea.

The gold and jewels lay forgotten as the lord advanced on the angelic creature kneeling a stone's throw away...

What do you think will happen? Will the Gods intervene? Reviews will be received with happy squeals.


© Copyright 2017 MaddamAndRobin. All rights reserved.

Chapters

Add Your Comments:

Other Content by MaddamAndRobin

More Great Reading

Popular Tags